


don't paint me black when I used to be golden

by tobewritten



Series: what if it cost you your heart? [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Heavy Angst, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobewritten/pseuds/tobewritten
Summary: you knew there was only one choice to make.that as you aim your gun, there was only one target.there’s a voice at the back of your mind, screaming at you don’t do it, Alex. don’t do this.but there really is no choice.





	don't paint me black when I used to be golden

**Author's Note:**

> This is just mainly angst. Something that I thought of a while back so... enjoy?
> 
> ps. this is going to be a series of one-shot since I may have wrote parts of it in different writing style!

  
you knew there was only one choice to make.

that as you aim your gun, there was only one target.

there’s a voice at the back of your mind, screaming at you don’t do it, Alex. don’t do this.

but there really is no choice.

you stare at your target.

and you pull the trigger. once. twice. thrice.

there wasn’t a choice.

\---

you’re slumped against the wall by the door to the operating room, knees pulled up to your chest and your hair covering parts of your vision as you stared at the opposite wall.

you register the sounds of nurses and doctors in the room murmuring and shouting and commanding here and there. you register footsteps coming your way, passing by you into another medical room.

you stare at the wall opposite you because that’s the only thing you could do.

you breathe. in. out. in. in. out. in. in. in. out. out. out

your breath stutter and you choked on air, grasping onto your tightly wounded chest.

you forced yourself to try again, to breathe. in and out.

just like they taught you.

in.  
in.  
in.

and your senses sharpen. you could feel the thumping of your heart against your chest a little bit stronger, your throat closing in, your eyes start noticing the small tiny textures on the wall.

out. out. out.

and the voices in your head start to get louder. so loud and so so much that you’re hearing nothing coherent but a collective internal scream.

you want to scream out loud.

but you find yourself that you can’t.

you can’t do anything but stare at the wall in front of you.

no. that’s a lie. you can’t do anything except for focusing on the commotion going on in the operating room. it’s been about thirty minutes and you know what’s going to happen next.

you have an MD and a Ph.D. and you might not be a practicing doctor, but you know the procedure enough.

the sound of the heart monitor fades. and the sound of clanking metals intensifies.

and then it’s silence.

for a while.

until it’s just

“Time of death of Jeremiah Danvers: 11.26 pm”

it echoes. and it screams.

and its pounding in your head.

breathe.

out.

in.

dead.

\---

you know it’s Maggie who’s pulling you up and pulling you to somewhere. and you know it’s Lucy who had her hand on your back.

they’re trying to ground you but you find yourself floating down the hallway and into another medical bay.

you let the doctor clean you up while you stare at a heart monitor in front of you.

_and the beeping sound intensifies and for a moment, a hope sparks inside you._

_and then it’s beep beep beep beep silence._

_“time of death”_

_“death”_

_“dead”_

“Alex, baby, come back to us,” you shift your focus. and stare at the woman in front of you.

and that enough brought you back to the present. you realize the worry in their eyes - the way Lucy’s fingers are so close to your own and Maggie’s words trying to soothe you.

it brings you back and tether you to the ground,

“i’m okay,” you mouthed because anything else would have been too much.

you’re coming back towards the ground, a little light-headed but the world seems more familiar now.

you start trying to feel. because the concern radiating from your girls makes you more aware of where you really are, of what had really happened.

you take a deep breath in and a shaky breath out, patting your own chest softly and muttering to yourself

“you’re okay. you’re okay. you’re okay,”

you manage to control back your limbs and your fingers, flexing them a couple of times before you try to stand.

and the next thing you know, you’re up and out of the medical bay.

up and out to find your sister. your sister. your sister.

“Alex, wait,” it’s lucy holding you back but you can’t. you need to see your sister. you need to know that she’s okay too.

“Kara’s okay. She’s in the sunroom. she- she’s physically okay but Alex-” you pulled away because you need to see for yourself.

so you ran. following your muscle memory and you ran until you’re in the sunroom and

of all things you expect - Kara hurt, Kara injured, laying sickly in the sunbed - you didn’t expect her to look at you _like that._

_like you ruined everything. like you-_

“you’re okay. you’re okay. you’re okay,” you mentally told yourself, a hand to your heart trying to still the erratic heartbeat.

“Kara-” you breathed in relief, cataloging any injuries to her body as you approached her with arms wide open.

you need your sister. you need to touch her, to ground you further. you need -

except she’s pulling away and she’s looking away and

you’re breaking because no no no.

your heart that you’ve been trying to hold together is tearing at the seams, holding onto the last piece of thread.

but Kara just turned away and

“don’t.”

and the coldness of her voice makes you retract inwards, makes a chill run down your spine and freezing every part of your body. you held your breath and you waited because the last time you heard this, she was under red kryptonite.

and the last time she was like this, she had spoken the cold harsh truth that makes your insides twist and churns and burns its way up your throat.

you suppressed the sob trying to escape.

Kara turned away and stood at the corner of the room. she’s not even looking at you and it makes your skin feel raw and scorched.

“you didn’t have to kill him. you didn’t have to kill your own father,” she spat.

it stabs you right through your heart, it stabs you over and over again and you’re losing your breath -

“he was going to kill you,” you replied weakly.

you feel your bones breaking piece by piece, your hands are shaking and your brain registers this moment as moments before you passed out.

“don’t use me as an excuse to ease your guilt, Alexandra!”

and you felt the air getting suck out of you.

and the world spinning and it’s

the moment where you didn’t actually pass out, but the moment where your soul left your body and everything inside you is frozen still.

you know there was shouting going around you (between who, you’re uncertain) but you’re so still and so numb you scare yourself even.

and then, there’s a switch and click and you’re Agent Danvers (a soldier, a fighter, a protector. not Alex. not Alexandra. not _human_.)

you straightened yourself up and you gave Supergirl a curt nod before turning sharply and marching out the door.

you’re marching towards the control center, saluting J’onn and saying

“Agent Danvers, reporting for debrief, sir,”

and was only replied with

“At ease, agent, debrief is in 5 in bay 7,”

you nodded your head and headed to bay 7.

you didn’t notice Lucy shouting at J’onn or the way Maggie tried to catch up with you, only to be rebuke access into bay 7.

you entered the room and you reported to your team.

and then you’re dismissed for the day.

but as you walked out the door, you’re still Agent Danvers, hands tightly curled around the gun in your jacket as you walked back to your apartment, the world looking too much like a threat ready for you to attack.

\---

when you reached your apartment, the first thing you did was head to the drawer containing all your liquors that you’ve supplied on troubled days. You’re not sure which kind you took out but all you know is that you’re uncorking the bottle and chugging it down.

it burns perfectly.

but still, the burn in your chest was hurting way more than the one in your throat.

you chugged another mouthful.

the door clicked open. you head to the bathroom and shut the door soundlessly.

you heard Maggie’s voice calling for you but you turned up the shower to drown out the concern and care evident in her voice.

of what used to be something that melts away your problems of the day, the water running down the shower head only scorched you further, leaving red marks on patches of skin.

your insides still burn heavier than anything you tried to take away the pain.

someone touches your hand and you immediately react, yanking the arm away and pining them towards the opposite wall.

“Alex,”

you stuttered, your composure falling apart as you recognized the woman in front of you.

“Maggie. I - oh god, I'm so sorry,”

you’re pulling away even as she tried to keep you to stay, but you’re pulling out of her grip, and you’re putting on whatever clothes discarded on the ground.

“Alex, don’t go. Alex please,” but you can’t stay. you can’t stay. you shouldn’t stay.

_you killed him. you killed him. you killed him._

_you’re going to kill her._

_god, you’re a fucking murderer._

just as you were about to leave the house, Lucy was standing in the doorway, eyes penetratingly worried and you wonder if that’s fear in her eyes.

god, you’re scaring them too.

you’re a monster.

you tried to maneuver your way out of their reach, out of their touch. but it’s two against one.

and you’re pulling pulling pulling away but they’re holding you down, holding you back, holding you close and

no no no

“I’m going to kill you too! please! let me go! I don’t want to kill you!”

and you tried you tried you tried to save them, to keep your hands to yourself but they’re still there, still holding you

and you can’t do anything but scream and cry and

you just want to die.

\---

you rose up from your slumber a little hazed with black spots of what happened the day before.

you woke up and you see your girls in the kitchen, murmuring softly among themselves as they set up the table for breakfast.

you almost smiled at how domestic it is.

until it hit you like a god damn truck.

and your eyes are tearing up because you don’t deserve this. you don’t deserve kindness. you don’t deserve love.

not when you killed your own blood, not when you shot your own father - the person you looked up to, the person you ran to whenever you’re in distress, the person that raised you for your whole fifteen years of your life.

you killed him.

and you deserve to be hated on, to be left, to be punished.

but not this.

“I don’t deserve you,” you said, loudly enough to grab the attention of the women in the kitchen.

they started making their way towards you and you shook your head vehemently.

“I don’t deserve you,”

“look at me, baby,” Maggie’s soft voice filled with command caused you to obey her.

she tilted your chin upwards, holding your gaze and intertwined her fingers with yours.

“we love you. we’re not going to leave you. we love you,” Maggie stated.

you shook your head again, but she cradled your face in her palms forcing you gently to look at her again.

“we love you,” she punctuated, placing her forehead on yours.

“we love you,”

Lucy reached out for your other hand, clutching you tightly and you breathe for a moment.

you still don’t believe them.

but you let yourself remember every bits and piece of this moment, ingraining it in your memory

in case.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like it, do leave Kudos and comments!


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